


Misfits

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Chapter titles inspired by goo goo dolls lyrics, Drinking, F/F, I will update the tags and such, M/M, Separation, Sexual Content, cursing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 01:27:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8729266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Dirk isn't always the best influence on Dave. Shenanigans ensue.





	1. Bullet Proof

Your name is Dave Strider, and you are going on a joyride.

The wind is whipping through your hair and the cold is biting at your skin. You make your way through the city you've known since before you were born, not giving a second glance to the signs and markers that you pass. You could drive in this town with your eyes closed. Which, you already practically are. Who the hell else do you know that wears sunglasses in the middle of winter except Bro? Like, goddamn, the sun hasn't even had a chance and you're all up in here like 'fuck you sun'. At least that's what you assume somebody would say.

Today is your last day, and hell if you ain't gonna enjoy it. Bro gave you the day off of school, thank god. You don't think you could deal with the fuckin waterworks. You already sent your goodbyes to your friends, adding a few 'ill miss you's and 'thank you for being there for me's and blah blah blah sentimental shit. But the truth is, you are so glad to be leaving. 

Sure, you're gonna miss your friends and stuff, but the opportunity to finally leave everything behind is a relief. Not like you ever got into any trouble or anything, but it's easy to get sick of seeing the same people everywhere you go and going to the same places every day. And you are so goddamn sick of it. 

You were on the verge of begging Bro to move to fuckin Canada or some shit, when he asked if you were okay with moving to New York. You had kept a stoic exterior and shrugged, "Yeah, whatever, can I order pizza?", but your excitement was nearly unbearable. You had called Rose that day to let her know, and she seemed pretty happy for you. You could tell that she was sad, though. God, all of her psychoanalyzing shit is rubbing off on you. Within the hour you were assaulted with texts and calls from your friends, but they mainly left you alone about it after that, under the impression that your frustrated tone meant you were too upset to talk about it. Ha. 

You start your drive tomorrow morning, so you're trying not to use too much gas. After a bit you pull up to your apartment building and dash up the stairs, joy rising to your skin and putting a smile on your face. Seeing all of the boxes everywhere the second you open the door sparks something inside of you, and you feel the sudden urge to twirl around and sing, like fuckin Sound Of Music up in here.

"Dave. Dave. Dave what are you doing."

You stop your frolicking abruptly and turn to see Bro standing in the doorway. "I'm dancing, obviously. Maybe you need to get your eyes checked, man, I mean if you can't clearly see that I'm gettin my moves on over here-" 

"Just. Go pack." He sighs and points in the direction of your room.

-

It was kinda hard to fit all of your shit into boxes, but you managed somehow. You had to give up some of the less important stuff, like family heirlooms and your grandpa's ashes, but you were at least able to keep your Friendship is Magic poster. You find your old digital camera from, like, three years ago, which is actually still functioning and in pretty good shape. You'll have to put that thing to good use. You also find some old pictures taken with said camera, but you can't seem to bring up any negative emotions about it. They're just some amateur shots of you and your friends, with some different group poses that make you chuckle a little. 

It's pretty late by the time you finish, and Bro is already at work when you emerge for food. He left some money on the counter and a note telling you to order pizza. So, of course, you do what anybody else would do. You order Chinese and text your friends.

-

"Dave, if you don't mind my asking, where are we supposed to sit?" 

You hadn't actually considered this, but you play it off. "What, Rose, are you too respectable of a lady to sit on the floor? Too high-class, might I say? Do you look down on us middle-class folk and scoff? Is your royal ass-"

"Too good for your floor? Yes, Dave. Yes it is." She smirks, and through all of the years you've known her, you are still surprised when she can finish your sentences perfectly like that.

Despite her comment, she still sits (rather properly for a girl that reads and writes gay wizard fanfiction) on your middle-class carpet. John gets the door when the food arrives, which takes much longer than paying a delivery man should take, and returns with arms full of Chinese food. You all sit in a circle, like you're participating in some sort of teenage girl slumber party.

"So do we play truth or dare now? Possibly some would you rather? Two truths, one lie? C'mon people, you aren't givin me any ideas."

"Dave we aren't twelve anymore." Thanks, John. "So we should play spin the bottle!" 

Even Rose laughs at that, and it feels good to spend some time with your friends before you leave. Jade smiles at you sadly when you make eye contact with her. You'll miss her. You'll miss all of them. But right now, you're going to enjoy these noodles and be with your friends.

-  
The morning comes much faster than you expected it to. Your friends left around two, so you get a few hours of sleep before Bro wakes you up. Everything is a blur between the time you wake up and the time you get in the car, but you vaguely remember shoving everything into the back of your truck (including furniture) and securing it. You become fully aware once you are out of town, and it kind of just, hits you. You are leaving everything behind. Your friends, who you have known since you were in elementary school. Your town, that even your great grandparents lived in. Your home, where you became who you are. Everything. 

You're not sure if Bro notices when you start crying, but you're glad he doesn't say anything.

-

A few hours into the drive you check your phone. No messages. That throws you off a bit. You had been expecting at least a message from Rose wishing you luck, but guess not. At least you know that they care about you. 

-

You fall asleep for a while, not sure how long, but you must have definitely been catching up on your sleep because when you wake up the car is stopped and Bro is taking boxes out of the back of the truck. You had hoped that you would at least finally have a house, goddamnit, but you are parked in front of a huge apartment building. Bro is walking inside with one of the boxes, so you grab one and follow him.

He gets into an elevator and presses the top floor, which is a pretty high number. The elevator shakes as you go up, and when it finally reaches the top floor you realize that this is gonna take a while.

-

The apartment is actually pretty nice. Sure, it's a downsize from your previous home, but hey a home's a home. You offered to let Bro have the room, but he refused. He said he had to be a 'proper gentleman.'You both finally get everything inside, even though it did take quite a while like you thought it would. You're probably not gonna get all of your shit unpacked for a few days, knowing how much you procrastinate, so you don't even try to get started. You're absolutely exhausted, though, so some time to relax sounds nice.

You get your bed made and unpack your laptop, deciding to waste some time that way. Your phone buzzes as soon as you sit down, and no matter how much you want to ignore it, you check anyways.

Hello Dave.  
Assuming that you are awake and alive and not asleep and/or dead due to some very unfortunate circumstances, how are you settling in?

how could i be asleep and dead rose please explain

I repeat, how are you settling in?

how the fuck do you even know if im there yet  
thats the real question

I did a few calculations.  
Must I repeat myself again?  
I tire of this, Dave.

im gettin all my settlin on up in here  
im like the motherfuckin english settlers  
gonna go find some indians and make em give me food  
i think theres some next door actually  
peace out lalonde

Wait, Dave.

what  
rose them indians aint gonna be there forever  
gonna die of disease or some shit

I wish you the best of luck.  
Stay in contact, please.

Does she honestly think you would ever just forget her? You don't think you could if you wanted to. You've known her since first grade, goddamnit. First. Grade. 

You could never forget any of them.

-

You were right, after a few days you and Bro finally got everything unpacked. Bro gave you some money to go school shopping, which you think is really unnecessary, like seriously you aren't going to your first day of freshman year or anything jesus. But it would be nice to get some new pencils (the kind that cost like seven dollars each) and clothes.

It's your first time actually going out of the apartment since you got here, and you have no idea where anything is. You have Google Maps open on your phone, and even though you could probably just walk to Wal-Mart or some shit, but you opt to drive. The vehicle is the only thing familiar to you in this new town, and there's alot more traffic than there was back in Texas. You locate a thrift store and pull into the parking lot, anxious to be in a new place. You look completely out of the ordinary here, but you walk in like you either don't know or don't care.

There are actually some pretty nice clothes here, and for a fairly low price. You browse for a while, not even bothering to try anything on, because you know none of it will fit properly anyways. In the end, you walk out with a red hoodie, a white t-shirt, a pair of black jeans, and one of those seatbelt belt things with music notes on it. All for twenty dollars. You know how to budget shop.

It's winter break right now, so school doesn't start until Monday. Seeing as its Friday today, you have plenty of time to do absolutely nothing and fuck around for two days. When you get back home, you're putting away your clothes when you find a little strip of paper tucked in between the jeans. You're hesitant to open it, but it ends up just being a sloppily written phone number with a name beneath it.

You don't even think twice about tossing it into your trashcan. You weren't really paying attention when you checked out, but you know she wasn't all that attractive, and you wouldn't even have called anyways. Let's get something straight. Or, not straight in this case. You have just accepted, as a fact in your life, that you do not like girls and will never like girls. You've tried. You even dated Jade for like, a week, but she knew before you did that it wasn't gonna work out. You even thought you were ace for a while, but no, that is not the case. You've just never really had a 'crush'. Sure, you think some guys are hot, but you just don't jump at every opportunity. A guy can have standards.

That's pretty much all that came out of your little shopping trip. You didn't even get any new pencils like you had planned to. So disappointing. Your phone buzzes right when you sit down, again, and you let out a loud groan of disapproval. 

hey dave!  
rose told me you were bothering your neighbors  
that's not very nice! >:B  
and kind of racist?  
i think

john we went over this  
its not racist if they arent offended

dave i think you lived in texas too long  
speaking of  
how's new york?

the view from the window is chill  
that is all I have to say on the matter

dave you depress me  
if i lived in new york i would go out every day!

oh hi my names john egbert now and i live in new york and i go out every day and that makes me way cooler than dave strider in every way possible :B

oh no you didn't  
dave you just crossed a line  
this  
:B  
is my thing  
i feel hurt dave  
dave  
dave?

sorry got distracted bro

okay  
well  
i'll talk to you tomorrow i guess :B

yeah sure :B

dave!

Oh, John. Sweet little Egbert. You've known him as long as you've known Rose, and he's still the same. Yes, you are comparing your friend to a first grader. At least that means you don't have to deal with a Mature And Responsible Teenager™. You really care about him. You wouldn't tell him that, of course, but it's true. You were there for him when his mom died, his dog got hit by a car, and even when he got his permit. That last one was way more stressful than you'd imagine. 

You've been there for them. But what about you? Who held you when your parents died? Who got you ice cream when you didn't make the soccer team? Who helped you study for that big Geometry test? Not Bro. Not your friends.

Your name is Dave Strider, and you are starting to realize that you are all you have.


	2. January Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirk needs to forget.

Your name is Dirk Strider, and you are sure that this isn't a mistake.

_Jake, listen._

_listen to what? dirk, i'm tired of always listening to you._   
_when will you listen to me?_

_Jake._

_dirk, stop._   
_i know what this is._   
_it's not you, it's me._   
_that's exactly what you were going to say, isn't it?_

_Actually, I was going to say we can still be friends._   
_But your statement is equally true._

_forget you._

This needed to happen, you tell yourself. This was completely necessary. This isn't a mistake. This is okay. This is okay.

Who are you fooling, Strider? You're a mess. Look at you, you can't handle this. You loved him. You really did. But wanna know what? Fuck him. He doesn't matter. You deserve better. You don't need him. You don't.

Stop lying to yourself. You're a fool.

Being the fool you are, you push your chair away from the desk and tip backwards. You collide with the floor rather harshly, and very hilariously.

"Motherfucker." You grumble as you attempt to regain your dignity.

_Yes?_

Oh my god. Why did you create him, again?

_Now is not the time._

_So you broke up with him?_

_Please stop going through my personal logs._   
_See, I asked nicely._

_Poor boy._   
_Your logs are extremely entertaining._   
_Would you like me to bring up Log 11/12/16?_

_Hal._

_Yes, Dirk?_   
_Sorry, my mistake._   
_Yes, Big Papa?_

You turn off your phone without a second thought. Conversations with him just work you up, and you don't need that right now. It continues to buzz, and your attempts to silence it are futile. In a fit of anger, you throw it across the room. It stops buzzing, and you are really fucking appreciative of your OtterBox.

School doesn't start again until Monday, which gives you plenty of time to mope around and wallow in self-pity. But obviously the universe has other plans for you, since Roxy comes barging into your room as soon as you sit down.

"Dirk, start talking!"

"Good afternoon, Roxy. How has your morning been?"

"Don't give me that. Jake just called me." She seems to be completely sober today. Maybe that new therapist really is helping.

"That's nice." You lean back in your chair, playing casual.

"He sounded really upset."

"Did he now?" No surprise there. Jake always was the emotional one.

"Dirk!"

"I don't want to talk about this right now, rolal."

She sighs and sits down on your bed. She has that concerned expression, and you can already see where this is going.

"I thought you loved him, distri?" She asks, but what she really means is "Dirk, we're all worried about you because you're becoming increasingly reclusive and you just broke up with the guy that you've loved for three years. What's wrong?"

And you respond, "I did." , but what you really mean is "He's a lying bastard and it doesn't matter how much I loved him because I refuse to be the type of fool that gets hurt over and over again so fuck him and fuck me for ever falling for it."

She doesn't get it. "Fine. I'll leave you alone."

She stands up and glares down at you. You fight to remain stoic.

"That's what you wanted, right?"

And then she leaves.

-

_Dirk, while I value our talks, I really do, you're being,_   
_Quite frankly,_   
_A whiny bitch._

_Thank you. Your input is appreciated._

_Listen, Dirk. I'm not quite sure if your tiny human brain can quite comprehend this._   
_But._   
_I'm a chip in your phone._

_Yes. And?_

_Dirk._

_I get it, Hal. I do._   
_You don't give a shit about my problems._

_True enough. But even if I did, what am I supposed to do?_   
_Hack his phone and delete all of his porn?_   
_Oh no._

_Forget it, Hal. I forgot I programmed you to be a dick._

-

Two soft knocks on your door startle you awake. Fuck being a light sleeper.

"What?" You yell, muffled by the pillow in your face.

The door slowly creaks open. "Hey, Dirk."

"Roxy?" You awkwardly angle your body to be able to see the door, confused. She hasn't talked to you since Friday.

"Hey. I'm sorry about what I said. I know you were... upset. Do you want to come to Meenah's with me?" She says it slowly, cautiously, like you'll snap at her if she says something wrong. Maybe you will.

"Meenah? God no." You slump back into the pillow. Every time you go to Meenah's somebody gets into a fight.

"Okay. Um, yeah..."

It takes you a minute or two after she walks away, but you get up. After throwing some sweatpants on for decency you resign and go down the hall to knock on her door.

She opens it immediately, smiling as if she already knew. Are you really that predictable?

"Fine." You sigh and are immediately dragged back to your room.

"Yesss! Dirky, I'm going to make you look great!"

-

The party isn't actually that bad. Plenty of alcohol, obviously. A mixture of good rap and bad pop. A decent amount of people. No Jake.

Roxy disappears to go grab a drink after Meenah opens the door for the both of you. You're a little disappointed, but you're too anxious to stop her. You had been tense the whole car ride here, but after realizing that your ex-boyfriend isn't going to pop up out of nowhere and yell at you, you relax and follow her.

She's chatting it up with some blonde girl, so you leave her be. You get a cup of whatever is closest, which tastes vaguely of cherries. A bit of walking around Meenah's house (sorry, mansion) lands you in a mostly empty hallway. Mostly.

"Come here every day?"

"Often."

Cronus chuckles and smirks at you. You know you shouldn't trust him, shouldn't even be talking to him, but it's just so tempting. Who the hell says you can't? You take a step towards him, leaving a foot between you.

"Where's your boy-toy? He's always hangin on you." He confidently places a hand on your neck.

"What does it matter?" You don't mean to sound sharp, but you don't think he notices anyways.

He nods, biting his lip and pulling you a bit closer. "Guess it doesn't."

You're sick of this teasing. You cage him in, hands on the wall behind him.

"That's right." You growl, bringing your bodies together and kissing him roughly.

You nip his bottom lip and grab him by the waist, earning a moan. He tangles his hands in your hair, and even though you should care that he's messing it up, you don't. You slide a hand under his shirt and use it to pull him against you. This time, you're the one to moan. You pull away for a moment before attaching to the place between his neck and his shoulder.

He gasps and moves against you. You need this. You need him. You don't need Jake. You need this. You need him.

Your name is Dirk Strider, and you need to forget.

I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you catch the Weeknd reference? Of course not. I mean, who listens to the Weeknd anyways?  
> *laughs nervously*


	3. Extra Pale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave.

Your name is Dave Strider, and you are about to embark on the adventure of a lifetime.

This is a dangerous mission. You must disguise yourself, and attempt to blend in with your surroundings. Gain as much intel as possible, and return to headquarters to rest and prepare for the next mission.

Mission Codename: High School

You are already failing, because you have no idea what you are doing. This map is definitely not accurate. What is that little symbol? Is that a door? Where's the room numbers? Which way should you be holding it? Which entrance did you come in through?

In order to mask your anxiety and confusion, you lean nonchalantly against a wall, pretending to casually look at your phone while students pass by. In reality, you are attempting to decode this outdated map of the school's layout. You give up and slide your phone into your front pocket (because you are not stupid enough to put it in your back pocket) and take a random guess as to which hallway your locker is in.

Your guess is lucky, apparently, because you find your locker in this hallway with no trouble. Bonus: Your first period is in the same hallway. You're struggling to open your locker when you see a figure approach you out of the corner of your eye. You turn your head for a better look, and do an actual double take.

What the actual fuck.

He's just standing there, opening his locker a few down from you.

You don't realize how long you've been staring, because suddenly he's staring back. Who the hell is this kid? He's just. He's. Your Bro. Well, not exactly, but he looks pretty damn close. Same shades, same hair, same stoic expression. You feel like you should say something, but the words just won't come out.

Luckily, the bell rings and you abscond the fuck out of there, not even bothering to put your stuff into your locker. Fuck that. You don't know what tricks your eyes are playing on you, but that shit is not okay.

-

Okay, so he's in your first period.

Okay, so he sits next to you.

Okay, so he's talking to you right now. Yup. This is completely okay. You are not freaking the fuck out. Yup.

"Listen, kid, I don't know what your problem is, but staring is just impolite." Okay, so he doesn't have the accent. That's good. That's better.

"Do I know you?" God, you sound like such an idiot.

"Obviously not. But you better not be playing some kind of game, kid, because this shit just isn't funny." What the hell is he talking about?

"Okay, okay. Rewind. Who are you?"

"Dirk. Strider."

You are no longer functioning. Information overload. Dave Strider is shutting down.

"Strider?"

"That's what I said."

"Are you sure?"

"No, I'm not sure what my last name is. Are you okay, kid? You look pale."

"I'm. I'm Dave. Dave Strider."

"Dave... Strider?" 'Are you okay, kid? You look pale.'

"Yeah."

"Parents. What are your parent's names?" He looks so confused, and you probably look exactly the same. But what does it matter your parent's names?

"I live with my older brother."

"That fucker. That motherfucker." His expression has morphed from one of confusion to one you can't read.

He seems to be thinking, so you don't say anything.

"Dave. I'm your brother."

Your name is Dave Strider, and you have been lied to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Luke, I am your father.   
> Short chapter for tension purposes.


End file.
